


shelter

by bereft_of_frogs



Series: part of our belongings (bad things happen bingo) [7]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: (honestly barely any hurt mostly comfort), Adventure, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Bad Weather, Exposure, Gen, Hugs, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Outer Space, Parenthood, Psychic Abilities, Storms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:48:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29884116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bereft_of_frogs/pseuds/bereft_of_frogs
Summary: i.Grass stretches as far as the eye can see. It surrounds them like a vast ocean, with absolutely nothing to break up the green expanse around them.ii.The thin light is quickly blotted out by first pale, then darker grey clouds sweeping across the sky. The wind picks up, bringing with it the smell of rain.iii.Obi-Wan can’t seem to find balance on this journey. Every stage has swung from one extreme to the other, first nothing and then too much.Bad weather and shelter, in three parts.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: part of our belongings (bad things happen bingo) [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1873021
Kudos: 13
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	shelter

**Author's Note:**

> written for the Bad Things Happen Bingo square: exposure

i. grass

Grass stretches as far as the eye can see. It surrounds them like a vast ocean, with absolutely nothing to break up the green and gold around them. The grass ripples a bit in the faint breeze. The only sound save for their footsteps on the soft soil is the rustling of the blades against each other. The light blue sky domes above them, unbroken by even a single drifting cloud.

Obi-Wan Kenobi is just barely thirteen years old. The vast majority of those thirteen years spent on the urban center of Coruscant. He has only fairly recently been elevated to apprentice status and begun to travel far from the city-planet, and finds the lack of any structures around them, rather eerie.

“An optical illusion,” Qui-Gon reassures him, when the city vanishes from behind them, leaving them adrift in the endless expanse of grassland. “It is far to the port, but not that far. We can make it in a day or so, I imagine.”

This mission had turned sour merely days after their arrival. They’d been dispatched to the capital city of this sparsely inhabited planet on what was meant to be a simple diplomatic posting. The parties who had requested Republican assistance apparently, though, did not realize that Republic assistance would include Jedi. Jedi who asked probing questions about what exactly the government of the planet intended them to do against their competitors, and didn’t simply accept the story they were told.

Their assistance was roundly rejected, after several frustrating meetings, and they were turned out of the city without further ado, told to make for the only major spaceport. On foot. Once they were no longer of any use to them, the Jedi were as good as dead in the eyes of the politicians.

“Perhaps not the best lesson in diplomacy, padawan,” Qui-Gon said when they set out. “That could have gone better. But it could have gone worse as well - this will not be the last time we are thrown out of a capital city. We should be grateful that they view us as dead in metaphorical terms only.”

“Yes, master,” Obi-Wan said obediently but did not feel very grateful.

The grasslands spread out around them. The sky stretches above, a wide expanse of blue curving to the empty horizon. They are fortunate that the weather has been clear, and the sun not too hot. This planet revolves relatively far from its sun, so the light is diffuse and cool. On other planets, such a march in the open, with no shelter, would likely cause fatal heatstroke in humans. But here, there is no discomfort. There is a slight breeze, but their cloaks are more than enough to keep them warm as they walk. No discomfort, except for the strange sensation of being adrift in nothingness.

“You’re sure we’re going the right way?” Obi-Wan asks, glancing back at where the capital had vanished.

Qui-Gon indulges him and checks their navigational guide again, patiently showing him their position on the map.

“I’m quite sure,” he says. “See? We just have to keep moving, and periodically checking our bearings to ensure we’ve not strayed from the path.”

“There _is_ no path,” Obi-Wan grumbles as they begin to trudge through the grasses again.

“There is no _visible_ path,” Qui-Gon responds. “But we have our way forward. Trust me, padawan.”

The sun begins to sink towards the horizon and still there is nothing around them but the empty plains. No sign of the spaceport. The horizon dissolves into darkness as soon as the sun sets. The stars blanket above them, their twinkling lights providing no real illumination. There is no moon here to light their way. Qui-Gon ignites his lightsaber and its green glow illuminates their way for a while, until the master stops. Obi-Wan had been flagging a few paces behind, starting to tire. He had begun to struggle to match his master’s long strides and only catches up once Qui-Gon has stopped.

“We should try to get some rest,” Qui-Gon says. “We’ve a ways to go still. It’s no use marching in the dark like this.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t really know what the difference is, since there was no way to rely on their sight in the daylight either. Though now even the horizon is visible. Everything beyond the small circle of green light is a shadowy void. The darkness only adds to Obi-Wan’s existing unnerved state.

“I can keep going,” he insists. He wants to get out of the vast nothingness as quickly as possible.

“It’s a very long walk, padawan. Pushing past our exhaustion will get us there no faster if we collapse halfway. The nights are short here; we’ll just take a few hours rest and be on our way.”

Obi-Wan finally nods in agreement.

There is nothing around them that would provide any shelter, but also no need for it. The weather is mild. There are no predators on the grasslands, and not likely to be any danger from the sentient inhabitants either, who now care only about their own affairs and pay no mind to the two banished Jedi. And the Force would warn them well ahead of any approaching peril. It wasn’t unusual for a Jedi to be without any roof but the stars. Obi-Wan knows this, but still finds no peace.

It all stretches out, emptiness all around him. The darkness presses in on them. It feels as infinite as the Void, but there is no spaceship around them to provide a barrier. There is only the faraway atmosphere, and nothing stretching out as far as he can feel.

Obi-Wan shivers a little in the cool air, drawing his cloak all around him. Despite knowing that there were no predators or enemies coming for them, he feels tense and jumpy. He cannot even take refuge in the normally reassuring streams of the Force because that only reminds him of how vast and empty the space is around them. He lays flat on his back, looking up at the domed stars above him, cradled on all sides by the flat grass. He worries at his lip with the edge of his teeth, fiddles with the end of his short braid. Time passes. He measures it by the tilt of the stars around them and his growing anxiety at the exposed nature of their position.

“You find it eerie.”

Obi-Wan startles at Qui-Gon’s quiet voice, then turns his head. “It’s just. Nothing. For miles. I can’t…I can’t feel _anything.”_

Qui-Gon sits up, his silhouette blocking out the stars. “Yes. There are some smaller life forms, insects for the most part, but yes, it’s true. There’s nothing out here for miles. It can be quite eerie. Especially when one is used to Coruscant, and crowded initiate dormitories.”

Obi-Wan nods, thinking of the warm, light initiate dormitories. The quiet feeling of dozens of peacefully sleeping life forms around him, bounded by the solid walls of the Temple, the city teeming with life beyond. “I’m sorry for disturbing you, master.”

“You were not, my young apprentice. You were being very much the opposite of disruptive. You will become accustomed to it in time. And many Jedi prefer the wilderness over Coruscant. It can be easier to connect with the Force here, without so many distractions. But I do also remember the strange feeling of suddenly being bereft of familiarity. Come here.” At Obi-Wan’s questioning look, he opens his arms. “Come here.” Obi-Wan hesitates a moment, feeling a bit foolish for acting like a child seeking his guardian’s comfort, but also tired and weary and wanting relief from the unnerving nothingness.

Qui-Gon gathers him into his arms. He folds the fabric of his cloak around him, envelops him in it. When Obi-Wan tucks his head down, it’s almost like a tent closing around him. It offers shelter, a bounds to his existence that had been lacking when he was just lost in the vast sea around them. The anxiety immediately fades. He can focus just on the warmth and light of their existence, their small island of life in the sea of nothing. Obi-Wan sighs in contentment.

“It will get easier,” Qui-Gon says softly. His voice vibrates in his chest. “When you’re more used to it. When you’ve got more control at focusing only on yourself. We’ll work on not finding it all so overwhelming.”

“Yes, master.”

Qui-Gon tightens his arms around him. Obi-Wan picks up threads of faint bemused affection radiating around them in the Force and smiles. He drops off to sleep in the safe confines of his teacher’s cloak.

ii. the storm

When dawn breaks and provides them some light, Qui-Gon nudges his apprentice awake. He shakes the dew from his cloak before rising and checking their bearings again.

He shows Obi-Wan their position, but the bleary-eyed padawan doesn’t seem quite as desperate to confirm their location. Perhaps the boy is too tired to care. “We should arrive before nightfall if we move quickly.”

Moving quickly becomes challenging as morning wears away and the sun climbs higher in the sky.

The thin light is quickly blotted out by first light, then darker grey clouds sweeping across the sky. The wind picks up, bringing with it the smell of rain. The temperature drops even lower, wind stinging at their cheeks. Still, the horizon remains unbroken by any landmark; the plains remain unchanged around them.

It begins to rain.

Obi-Wan studiously does not complain out loud, but his dark mood is obvious in the Force. And Qui-Gon can’t fault him for it. This assignment had been a frustrating slog from the start. If he gives in to the annoyed voice buried deep in the back of his mind by long years of careful training, he would say something like ‘of _course_ it would begin to rain.’ _Freezing rain_ , he amends as the afternoon progresses. Of course. But he has a responsibility to both set a good example for the young apprentice in his charge and to not alarm the boy.

Jedi children are both more and less sheltered than their non-Jedi peers. By most standards, they are exposed to far more of the galaxy’s sharp edges and potential dangers. But they also rarely leave the Temple before they’re apprenticed, and generally have less hands-on experience. So, while Obi-Wan didn’t blink an eye at various complex legal documents, could hold his stomach while hearing testimony of the worst atrocities, he didn’t have much experience with the physical discomforts the galaxy could offer.

_That will certainly change,_ Qui-Gon thinks with a faint smile. _He will learn. Even if he doesn’t like it. He will learn or at least endure._

Qui-Gon normally enjoys traveling and doesn’t mind roughing it. Any apprentice of his will have to learn to endure, if not enjoy, traveling simply.

But even he will admit that this is a _bit_ much. A particularly sharp, cold raindrop strikes his cheek hard and he has to breathe out his frustration, letting it pass through him without warping him. As the cold really starts to sink into his bones, maintaining the sense of Jedi calm becomes more and more difficult.

The storm increases in intensity as they hike across the grasslands. Their boots stick in the mud and slow their pace. Visibility is limited, even if there hadn’t been much to see in the first place. The wind is fierce. It almost feels strong enough to blow them off course. Qui-Gon finds himself checking their bearings more and more often and relying on the Force to ensure they keep on track.

Obi-Wan questions him anxiously about the way forward. His voice is barely audible over the howling wind and sound of the rain, but Qui-Gon can feel more than hear the question. He turns to his apprentice to reassure him and frowns at the blue tinge to his lips, how his teeth chatter. They need to find some sort of shelter, and soon.

There are rocks in their path now. These will eventually build into jagged mountains, where the major port is nestled. The appearance of the rocky foothills would be a good sign under normal circumstances, that they were growing closer to their destination. But with the storm, visibility is nearly at zero. They can’t see the boulders until they’re nearly on top of them, forcing them onto a winding, slower route when they were already moving slowly and rapidly losing energy.

The Force will find a way. Qui-Gon steadies himself with a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder and carefully listens to its prompting.

“This way!” he calls over the storm, directing his apprentice along the path. It leads him to a small outcropping, and a very small cave nestled in the rock. He shoves Obi-Wan towards it. Qui-Gon has to stoop to fit inside.

“It’s not very big, master,” Obi-Wan says through chattering teeth.

“Probably for the best.” He breaks their sole glow-rod. Cool, white light illuminates the small space. There’s no sign of any activity and the cave is far from deep enough to hide any nasty secrets. Satisfied that their shelter is unoccupied, Qui-Gon turns his attention to sealing the entrance. “Give me your cloak.”

Obi-Wan peels off the soaked garment and hands it over, then wraps his arms tight around his torso. “What are we going to do?”

“I’m going to use this to block the entrance, keep the water from seeping in, and buffer us from the wind a bit. Sorry for having to sacrifice your cloak, padawan.”

“A worthy sacrifice,” Obi-Wan says with that wry wit of his.

Qui-Gon smiles fondly. “And then we’re going to wait for the storm to pass. We should try to get some rest.”

“Yes, master.” Another shudder passes through Obi-Wan. He’s fighting to control the shivering. His cheeks are red, standing out sharply from his pale skin.

Qui-Gon settles himself against the rock wall. Wordlessly, Obi-Wan follows, tucking close to his side. Qui-Gon touches his cheek and winces at how cold the padawan’s skin feels. He tucks his cloak around them both, much as he had the previous night. He uses the Force to draw a touch of heat into the rock around them. It’s not much, but it will be enough to keep them alive. He wishes they had some dry clothes - but there’s nothing to be done but endure.

The wind howls outside through the night. The rain pounds down on the rocks above their heads. The cramped cave is not comfortable, but it warms enough with their body heat that they are not in danger of freezing. Neither of them properly sleep but doze off and on.

Qui-Gon slips into a deeper doze near dawn and wakes to silence. The rain has stopped. Obi-Wan is fast asleep, tucked into his side. Qui-Gon carefully shifts him, sliding out from under the child and standing as much as he is able. He makes his way to the mouth of the cave to assess the situation.

The sky is still dark, though in the south the clouds are beginning to thin. He can see the way forward now, the clear path through the foothills. Artificial lights glow on the horizon. As he watches, the first transport of the day takes off, rising above the peaks and heading into the pink dawn light. Hope for the end of their long march, though it’s still a long way off. The air is still chilly, Obi-Wan’s cloak is soaked through, but he hopes if the sun emerges on their trek it will dry some.

Qui-Gon wakes his apprentice. “Come on,” he says with a reassuring smile, despite his own exhaustion. “We’re almost there. Just a bit further.”

iii. the ship

Their arrival in the port brings salvation and new challenges. They are offered passage on a public transport, a shuttle headed to a nearby planet for seasonal labor. A planet, luckily, with an official republic outpost. They should be able to contact Coruscant there and find quicker passage back to the core.

But the port is crowded and the transport is due to leave in twenty minutes. Qui-Gon doesn’t wish to spend another night of little sleep on this uncaring planet. They have to run to make the transport, spending the last bit of their waning energy traversing the packed departure station. Qui-Gon uses his height and just a touch of the Force to carve a path through the throngs of travelers, keeping his apprentice close to his side so he doesn’t lose him in the crowd. Obi-Wan still shivers in the cool air,

They make it just in time, Qui-Gon shows their passes to the crew and they wave them on.

There are no private berths, just rows and rows of bedrolls in the massive passenger compartment at the bottom level of the ship. It’s built to fit as many migrant laborers as possible in its hold, with a few compartments for the upper classes at the top and a layer of freight in between. Qui-Gon pushes through the milling crowds with a hand on his apprentice’s shoulder, looking for two empty spaces among the dotted free spots. He’s ready to use a slight Force suggestion to find them spots together, but a middle-aged worker spies them, glances between them, and moves to a single mat a row away to give them two places together. Qui-Gon nods in thanks and pushes Obi-Wan towards the free space.

“How long is the trip?” Obi-Wan asks with a yawn, voice just barely audible over the din of the other passengers' conversations.

“A little less than a full standard day.”

Obi-Wan smiles. “At least we’ll be warm.” The ship’s engines and the packed bodies heat the passenger compartment to what would normally be uncomfortable levels, but it’s welcome in the aftermath of their long hike across the plains.

They wash up and dry off their clothes, then settle on their mats far earlier than most of the other passengers. But the two Jedi are far too weary to mind the noise and rapidly drop off to an exhausted sleep.

Obi-Wan wakes a few hours after they had fallen asleep. It is the middle of the ship’s night cycle and most of the other travelers are quiet around him. At least, outwardly quiet. Inside, they are storms of feelings, anxieties, and restless emotions that spill over into the Force, filling it with their voices.

It’s hard to filter out all the thoughts and feelings emanating from the other passengers. There’s mingled hope and fear and apprehension and grief and loss. It all bears down on him, overwhelming in the exact opposite way to the nothingness had felt on the plains. Balance. He can’t seem to find balance on this journey. Every stage has swung from one extreme to the other, first nothing and then too much. A shiver travels down his spine that has nothing to do with the temperature of the ship. He reaches for balance again and it sleeps from his grasp, the wave of overwhelming external feelings crashing over him.

He doesn’t wait long this time until Qui-Gon senses his distress and wakes. “What is it?”

Obi-Wan doesn’t know how to put it into words. When he tries to form them, the sensations around him pull his attention away from their construction. But his shields are frayed and Qui-Gon can clearly read his stress without even really trying.

“Ah,” his master says, dropping back to his own mat. “It’s too much for you.”

“Sorry,” Obi-Wan says, fidgeting.

“Shh. Just listen.” His master pulls his mat closer and, in a quiet voice so as not to disturb their neighbors, walks him through a basic exercise he has had memorized from the creche. It works, as he should have remembered. The bombardment of voices gradually quiets, the outside emotions fading to quiet white noise. Like the soft flow of waves on a beach. Soothing, instead of overwhelming.

He’s almost dropped off to sleep again when Qui-Gon’s voice comes to him from far away. “We’ll work on it. You’ll get the hang of things soon enough, my young apprentice.”

“Balance?” He can feel Qui-Gon’s smile.

“Precisely, young one. Now sleep.”

Obi-Wan thinks he senses a bit of Force-laden suggestion in his master’s tired voice. He’ll eventually learn to resist that as well, but for now, he can’t help but slip off to sleep, mentally tucking himself in the cool light of Qui-Gon’s presence in the Force to buffer his senses from the rest of the voices from the surrounding passengers.

He takes shelter.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what keeps happening to me with the 'bad things happen' bingo fills...quite a few of them have been pretty tame for me. This one was just mostly about...hugs. How. It was also mostly about the vibe, so I didn't really fight to fit this in anywhere specific in terms of the canon events or how the Force works or the logic of the plot. Honestly just like...went with the vibe. ;-) 
> 
> Anyway, hope y'all enjoyed. If you did, comments/kudos/shares/frogs always appreciated! You can also come find me on [tumblr @bereft-of-frogs](https://bereft-of-frogs.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> 'Til next time!


End file.
